These Bucs Cure Ills Of A Sickly Franchise

THE SPORTS COLUMN

December 6, 1997|By Brian Schmitz, of The Sentinel Staff

TAMPA — In one fell swoop, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers can ceremoniously end the suffering of fans who had witnessed the league's longest-running blooper reel. They can mend their franchise's old fractures. They can chase away the demons with a victory so loud, it might be heard all the way back to 1979.

Never has there been a set-up for a Sunday like this, because never has an NFL team endured what the Bucs have endured.

This city has been waiting too long - through too much lunacy and too many losses - for this sort of electric afternoon. ''It will be a Super Bowl-type atmosphere,'' Tampa Bay coach Tony Dungy said. Hey, what Bucs follower wouldn't settle for Super Bowl-type of anything?

Linebacker Hardy Nickerson sensed the runaway fever at a mall autograph session, saying, ''Some fans had trouble controlling themselves, they're so excited.'' Bucs fans out of control!? ''I used to go places and people would yell, 'What's wrong with you guys?!' Now you walk out of your garage and hear, 'Great game!' '' Nickerson said.

Sunday is more than just a sold-out game against defending champ Green Bay in December with a playoff berth at stake, although that is quite enough. It is really a celebration of the return of Tampa as a pro football town, a ribbon-cutting day in which the faithful can hoot and holler. Just like real, rabid fans of contenders do. Just like the Cheeseheads at Lambeau.

And the second-best part of it all is that Bucs crazies don't have to falsely mug for the cameras. Their team is 9-4 and legit. The Bucs have become big-game hunters, registering their most dominating performances in victories against San Francisco, New England, Miami and the New York Giants - all division leaders.

Oh, the best part of the biggest day in Bucs history - at least since the '79 NFC title game - is that the Bucs do not necessarily have to win.

That's right. That's the beauty of it. Don't get me wrong now. The Bucs would love to deliver their first playoff-annexing victory since '82, turning the occasion into the world's largest exorcism.

But whatever the outcome, these Bucs believe they can rise to live again even after a loss. They no longer come across as a desperate team built on shifting sand, the unsteady trademark of the wacky Sam Wyche Era. They do not overreact to any victory or overreact to any defeat, the healthiest sign of a solid work in progress.

Their response when asked about Green Bay on Sunday: It's the most important game because it's the next game. It is a mantra.

They realize that many fans hip to lousy Bucs lore - from the 0-26 start to Doug Williams' exit to the bad drafts and bad coaches - need a cleansing, chest-beating triumph.

''If it happens, it's huge. It's all over, as far as the demons and stuff,'' said center Tony Mayberry, who knows the lean times. ''But for us, that kind of era doesn't even exist anymore. It's not just the change of (uniform) colors, not just the owner (Malcolm Glazer), not just the coach. The players are so young and new. The mentality of this team is that they are a part of what we're trying to accomplish now, not part of the past.

''From that standpoint, the team doesn't feel as strongly about one game. We just know it's the next game we have to win.''

They have Dungy on their brains. They talk his talk. Tony is so low-key, you sometimes want to check his vitals. But his calming effect has kept a team infused with fresh, talented playmakers on course. ''If Sam (Wyche) were still here, we'd have to peel him off a wall this week - and a few other guys, too,'' said a Buc, requesting anonymity.

''It all comes from Tony,'' defensive tackle Warren Sapp said. ''He's been to the playoffs, but I'm going down that untraveled road. It's fun going down that untraveled road when you have a young team like this. We've got nothing to lose. Whatever happens - so be it. If we don't get it, hey, we'll get it the next time. That's Tony, too.''

Unless the balloting for NFL coach of the year is conducted by henchmen from Third World countries or by fickle college-football poll voters, Dungy should win the honor. No coach has had to overcome such a gloomy, goofy history. Nobody laughs at the Bucs anymore - not the league, not Leno. That should qualify Dungy for sainthood, not to mention coach of the year. ''Sunday,'' understated Dungy, ''should be fun for everybody.''